


Worse Things

by icarus_chained



Category: The Fantastic Journey (1977)
Genre: Claustrophobia, Comfort, Episode Related, Friendship, Gen, Nightmares, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8425168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarus_chained/pseuds/icarus_chained
Summary: It takes Varian a few nights to notice that Willaway is having nightmares, and to guess what they're about. Once he does, though, he does his best to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I realise this is a very obscure fandom, for a 10-episode cancelled sci-fi show from the 70s, but I really wanted some fallout from the [Funhouse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Rr-c0cz0gE) and [Riddles](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9CyHJ5bTUI) episodes. So I, ah. So I wrote some?

"You've been dreaming about him, haven't you?" Varian said quietly.

Willaway startled beside him, turning to blink at him in confusion. "I'm sorry?" he said, soft and bewildered as though he had no idea what Varian was talking about. He did that very well, Jonathan Willaway. Though Varian supposed it was early enough in the morning that the man might be genuinely confused either.

"So am I," he said, just in case the man wasn't. "You've been having nightmares for a few nights now. I should have noticed sooner. I'm sorry that I didn't."

Willaway blinked again, before glancing away. "I'm sure we all have cause for the odd nightmare here or there," he said, soft and mild, with a little curl of his mouth. "It's nothing much, Varian. Something seems to have just stirred mine up lately, that's all. I'm sure they'll fade away again in another night or two."

They probably would, Varian thought. Nonetheless, they were here now, and he wondered if it mightn't serve the man to air them out a little. He'd always doubted that Willaway had forgotten as much as he said he had. Denying one's fears never did much to get rid of them.

"They're about Apollonius, aren't they?" he asked gently, and watched as Willaway went very, very still. "It was the stone. It brought him back, didn't it? I didn't think of it at first. The stone manifested your fear as a shrinking closet. It wasn't until later that I thought of what might lie beneath that. A dark, shrinking space where no one could hear you or ... or come to your aid. The stone translated that as a closet, but that wasn't the shape it had originally, was it?"

Willaway bowed his head, his knuckles going white where his hands were braced against his seat. He laughed, faintly. It was a rather worrying sound, all things considered.

"You know, I had thought I'd forgotten it," he said, looking back at Varian, his brown eyes tired and his smile rather fixed on his face. "I thought I'd put it away, somewhere I wouldn't have to think about it. But, yes. The, ah, the stone did seem to have other ideas. And yes. I rather think it was Apollonius that it latched onto. I didn't used to be claustrophobic. Not until him."

"I'm sorry," Varian said again, and he truly was. In his own time, to do what Apollonius had done, to use one's strength of will to overwrite another mind, to force them down and trap them in their own bodies, was a terrible crime. It was anathema. It wasn't surprising that for Jonathan, who'd had no direct contact with another mind at all until he came to the island, the experience was worth at least a nightmare or two.

"It's all right," Willaway demurred, smiling a touch more genuinely at him. "After all, I have you to thank that the nightmare wasn't a reality." He glanced down, fiddling with a loose thread. "It would seem that someone did hear me enough to come to my aid, despite all Apollonius' best efforts. I do remember that, you know. I remember someone telling me to fight. To come back. I remember someone fighting for me. Perhaps one day I ... Well. Let's just say, it occurs to me that that might ... be a happy thing to get used to. If one has the opportunity, I mean. As it would seem ... that I have?"

There was a little lilt on the end of that, a partial question, but his eyes were bright enough when he looked back Varian's way. As tired as he looked, as much as the nightmare lingered in his eyes and his expression, that curl of his lip did seem a lot more genuine.

Varian answered it, too. He smiled broadly, and reached out to clap the man gently on the shoulder. "That's right," he said. "Whatever else happens on this island, at least we can always count on each other to help out. That's not a bad thing to learn, when all else is stripped away."

"No indeed!" Jonathan answered cheerfully. And then, more soberly: "No indeed. And, in case I didn't say it before? Thank you, Varian. For saving me from a very small, very dark place, from which I did fear I would never emerge again."

Varian sobered too, at that, but only so he could answer it as seriously as it deserved. 

"You're welcome," he said, drawing his hand down to squeeze the man's arm gently. "Any time, Jonathan. Though I hope it isn't necessary _too_ often."

Willaway snorted. "On this island?" he said, shaking his head. "We should be so lucky. Has anyone ever told you, Varian, that you are an incorrigible optimist?"

Varian laughed. "Many times," he said. "You know, I don't really mind? After all, there are worse things to be."

And for first time, he thought that Jonathan Willaway, confirmed cynic, finally agreed with him.


End file.
